


Would You Like to SAVE?

by boneapptheteeth



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Resets, depends on how you interpret it but potentially, female reader but i kinda wish i wrote it more gender-neutral, not a romantic thing, sorry for people who don't identify as female, there were dialogue things i didn't want to change tho that kinda gendered you, very interpretive, very platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneapptheteeth/pseuds/boneapptheteeth
Summary: I never anticipated, I never thought that I could be found in the centre of my own mess of a blizzard - that my story could be, not rewritten, but continued and given a happy ending.And though they weren’t there when I called for help until my cries died down into suffocating silence, they were there. And that was what mattered, or so I learned after nights of tears and days filled with sunshine and smiles.What I needed wasn’t a love story, but one of a different type of love that involved friendship and acceptance.





	Would You Like to SAVE?

It was always so cold.

 

So cold…

 

The storm brewing within myself, yet it was always suppressed beneath a veil of pretending I was okay that meant little under the violent pressure of wind and doubt. The snow descending downwards to an unknown destination yet I already knew that destination was chilled, the path paved for me… unseen but melancholy at best.

 

And though I knew this at my core, I could not face the realities in front of me. Most had a multitude of pathways at their fingertips, ready to be chosen, so many opportunities. I only had a single one, in which sadness was a dominating emotion. This skipping record of reminders in my head (you will never succeed, you will never be accepted, you will never be like everyone else) whispering my fate to me. Why do I deny what is meant for me? The mask I adorn every day is not for others but for myself, I desperately lie to myself constantly, again, again, again, again,

 

Just to feel better about my poor pathetic waste of a fucking life.

 

…Or this is what I had learned thus far anyways.

 

I never anticipated, I never thought that I could be found in the centre of my own mess of a blizzard - that my story could be, not rewritten, but continued and given a happy ending.

 

And though they weren’t there when I called for help until my cries died down into suffocating silence, they were there. And that was what mattered, or so I learned after nights of tears and days filled with sunshine and smiles.

 

What I needed wasn’t a love story, but one of a different type of love that involved friendship and acceptance.

 

This is how I overcame my thoughts of hatred and embraced those who cared about instead. My small bubble popped allowing me to swim upwards towards my first breath in much too long; and towards arms ready to capture me in not a restraining hold, but a supporting one.

 

The snow and ice around me melted into warm beaches and happiness.

 

And once my face breached the surface, the water on my face spilled downwards in love instead of grief.

 

* * *

  


Standing at the edge of Hope Bridge, I could feel a different type of hope surge through my heavy bones – hope for the darkness, the emptiness following this one act.

Rain pelted onto my face, my hands shaking. I didn’t know whether the shivers wracking my form were a result of the temperature or something akin to fear of the unknown. Though I couldn’t imagine it was due to the latter; my body and mind were too numb to feel fright, to feel anything.

 

I stared down into the seemingly black-coloured water below, I wouldn’t be surprised if I jumped and landed in a void of space – into a pocket where nothing existed and I was the only thing there, but all at the same time, I didn’t exist either.

 

That’s what I wanted anyways, wasn’t it?

 

My soaked flimsy t-shirt and cotton shorts fluttered in the wind where they didn’t stick to my skin, my hair also carried by it; but it didn’t flutter rather than violently whip around and into my face. In other circumstances, I would be extremely annoyed. In this one… well, why did that matter when I didn’t have to worry anymore? I didn’t need to worry about the scratchy rock beneath my feet, the sting of the cold, or the sensation of my throat clawing at me to catch the next breath any longer.

 

Hope Bridge stood tall above a river of darkness, contrasting its name. Though the concept of hope was subjective. My idea of hope was one where I didn’t have to suffer through each and every day, anticipating the moment where my worries were whisked away by the tides, and I would be forgotten.

 

Hope lied in the fact that no one was around to watch me teeter on the edge of what lay below my feet, dancing on my toes, arms spread – almost as if to embrace an entity before me. It lied in the smile on my face, my dropping eyelids, and the one step I took in front to me to-

 

“wait!”

 

Shaken out of my trance, I turn to the source of the voice. My eyes meet with small pinpricks of light, the white points beacons in the dark night.

 

Hope.

 

But not the hope I was looking for.

 

“Hello, how are you?” I said to the skeletal man that stood before me, his composure dishevelled, legs posed as if about to participate in a fight. The grin he wore strung tight, blue-tinted sweat dripped down his skull; fascinating considering the weather, it was also a wonder how I could make out the beads of liquid in spite of the rain that poured down his face.

 

The look he gave me after I spoke was one of puzzlement.

 

“listen, don’t do this.” He said, his voice unsure.

 

I cocked my head, “Don’t do what?”

 

The skeleton – who I noticed was wearing athletic shorts, ridiculous – choked for moment before taking a step forward, hesitant.

 

“y’know… this. don’t end what you have now, s’not worth it, bud.”

 

“I… Don’t know what you’re talking about, but I have to leave now; my mom is probably worried.” I stepped off the edge of the bridge, bare feet slipping on the wet ground before catching traction. My brain was fuzzy and I couldn’t exactly recall what I was doing, but I smiled at the friendly skeleton before walking away.

 

What I didn’t see was that very skeleton scratching his skull, his eyelights staring pointedly at my back; a discarded umbrella blowing away in the wind behind him.

 

* * *

  


“Sweetie, don’t you think your top is a bit low?”

 

I turned away from the door to face my mother, the woman decked out in her pajamas and house slippers, broom in hand. She stood with her brows furrowed in disapproval, clearly reluctant for me to leave to house as I was.

 

“What do you mean, mom?” I looked down to my chest, my breasts appeared sufficiently covered…

 

“Honey, frankly you look like- oh don’t make me say it!” She shook her head, “You look like a slut!”

 

Maybe I should feel scandalised by my mother’s statement but this was a normal occurrence, and I loved her so it couldn’t hurt to comply with what she wanted, right?

 

I rubbed my arms, hunching my shoulders. Maybe she was right, though, and I was just caught up in myself to realise that I showing too much of my body. I should have known that I couldn’t pull this top off when I bought it anyways, what was I thinking?

 

“Sorry mom, I’ll go change.” As I made my way back to my room, she stopped me by putting a delicate hand on my arm.

 

“It’s okay, baby, I know you didn’t mean it.” She paused, “Are you sure you want to go out, you should stay home and spend more time with me! You don’t clean around the house enough anyway, you should help me out.”

 

“I- sorry, I would but you know I need a job so I can help out; I don’t want to put too much burden on you.”

 

“Well, you could start by cleaning first and see how things go from there. Frankly, I’m not too sure about you working- it might be too much for you, you know?”

 

She only thought of the best for me, always. I don’t deserve her.

 

“Sorry, mom, I’ll try to help more around the house. But I really don’t want you to be the only one working, I know how tired you get.”

 

She sighed, “I know sweetie, okay, go get changed.”

 

* * *

  


It’s been a month since I started working at Grillby’s, the warm bar quickly becoming my second home. The first time I walked in, I was a bit intimidated by the fact that the bar was inhabited by mostly monsters, but the owner and bartender of the bar quickly charmed me. Grillby was a large reason why I didn’t walk out of the bar two minutes after sitting down. When I inquired about a position, after buying a drink (the cheapest one that wasn’t water) and conversing with the man, the flame monster sparkled before immediately hiring me. I still don’t understand why he didn’t interview me before taking me in, but I guess I should be thankful rather than question my good fortune.

 

There have been occasions where I had been reluctant to leave the establishment to go home, working overtime and insuring that Grillby didn’t have to pay me for it (though I think I saw additions to my pay check anyway). But I really didn’t understand why the thought of going home made my chest feel tight and my breath short- all that was there was my loving mother and she has never done anything to hurt me.

 

Due to these overtime shifts, I’ve gotten to know many of the bar’s most frequent patrons including the dog squad (as I called them) and Tily, the most often than not drunk bunny. There were more than that, but I nearly saw those monsters every shift. There was this other patron that apparently frequented to Grillby’s a lot according to my boss, but for the first few weeks that I worked there, I didn’t see him at all. It wasn’t until my third or fourth week that I met Sans, and after that, he just wouldn’t leave my life.

 

Sans was a skeleton, no joke. He walked, talked, and ate (the first time we met he drank ketchup to surprise me and all I could do was cringe and walk away). Besides the horrid jokes (that I did NOT laugh at), Sans was pretty good company, I had even run into him outside of work and held conversation with him. It was a little odd that I felt so comfortable with the monster, even more so than with Grillby, but I guess Sans was a pretty social guy that was known for his ability to chat anyone up- not even my own awkwardness could negate that kind of talent. Though, I did find it odd that sometimes I could swear that I could feel the skeleton’s gaze on me while I bounced around the bar. I guess I was the one of the few humans that would willingly work in a monster bar (unfortunately), so curiosity about my intentions may be warranted. Though, I couldn’t help but blush and fool myself into believing that his heavy stare was due to interest.

 

No way. Not happening, no one’s ever liked me and no one ever will; there was a reason why I didn’t have friends. I was just too unlikable.

 

It was during one of those occasions where I ran into Sans coincidentally, our greetings turning into conversation on a park bench near a still pond. That day, there was a silence that encompassed the two of us, I looked down at my feet while I nudged a rock with my toe. It was Sans who broke the silence first,

 

“y’know, kid.” He paused to look at my face, my own eyes meeting his, “you have a good soul.”

 

I flushed and turned my stare back downwards before looking at him from the corner of my eyes, “What do you mean?”

 

Sans chuckled, before sitting up from his slouched position and shifting closer to me.

 

“i mean exactly what I said; you have a good soul. y’know, Grillby didn’t intend to hire any staff, but I bet he took a good look at your soul and knew you were exactly the type of person that should work in Grillby’s.”

 

My red cheeks got even darker, why was he saying this?

 

When I didn’t respond, he continued, “why were on that bridge that night?”

 

“Huh? What do you mean?” Sans’ gaze burned into me, into that “soul” he was talking about earlier. I felt exposed, raw, and I didn’t even know what he was talking about.

 

“a few months ago, on a rainy night, I saw a girl looking like she was dancing on the edge of Hope Bridge, like the wind was going to catch her and she would fly away. that girl looked an awful lot like you, kid.”

 

“I… I don’t know, Sans.” For some reason my throat felt tight, “I really…”

 

“come meet my friends. i swear you’ll have a skele- _ton_ of fun.”

 

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

I then met Sans’ friends, a sweet and caring goat woman (who for some reason brought tears to my eyes the first time I met her), a human child who liked to flirt with everyone, a rowdy fish monster that nearly crushed all the bones in my hand when she shook it, a shy lizard that had me feeling bad for intruding on her clearly tight-knit friend group that she was comfortable around, and Sans’ brother of whom he had talked about all the time. The taller skeleton hugged me the first time we met and, though the feeling of his bones digging into me was extremely uncomfortable, he tried his best to make me feel at home; and I really did.

 

My time spent with Sans and his friends were the best times of my life, even when we just sat on Undyne and Alphys’ couch all afternoon and watched anime. It was the first time I actually felt close to a group of friends and genuinely felt like they wanted me to come back to hang out more.

 

But I should have known that good times always come to an end.

 

* * *

  


“Monsters?! You’re working with and are friends with monsters?!” Another plate broke.

 

“Mom, I’m sorry… But they’re good people! They-“

 

This seemed to enrage her more, as her fingers turned red on the cup she was grasping in her hand, face scrunched up in rage.

 

“Why would you dare call them people?! They’re evil, they came out from beneath us for christ’s sake! They’re practically demons!”

 

“But-!”

 

“ENOUGH!”

 

Mother slammed down the cup that she was trying to clean, liquid spilled onto the counter.

 

“Just go up to your room. Expect to cut off ties with those monsters by the end of tomorrow.”

 

* * *

  


“you can’t be serious, kid, you can’t just up and leave!”

 

I sat with Sans in a small coffee shop, the hot chocolate in my hands warming my fingers. I watched the steam curl up into the air, seemingly graceful and melancholy. It disappeared before being replaced by another lick of translucent vapour. I told him about my mother and her finding out about my acquaintance with monsters. I told him that I had to leave.

 

“Sans I… I don’t want to, but I owe so much to my mom.”

 

“you don’t owe her anything. from what i’ve heard, she’s been manipulating you your whole life! just because your dad left, doesn’t mean she can be overprotective and control every aspect of your life- you’re an adult!”

 

I wanted to protest, tell him my mother only did what she did because she loved me, but I was so tired. I just wanted to be happy, and I found that happiness within my monster friends; I didn’t want that taken away from me.

 

“What do I do, Sans? I… don’t want to hurt anyone.” He grabbed my hands, his glowing eyelights staring into my own pupils.

 

“talk to her. if that doesn’t work, you have us - we’ll always be there for you.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t work. I didn’t work at all, no matter how hard I tried. So, I ran to the skeleton brothers’ house and asked for help while I cried in the arms of the shorter skeleton, disgusting tears soiling his favourite jacket.

 

I cuddled with the two brothers while I calmed down, Papyrus stating that I could stay however long I wanted.

 

During my stay, I got closer to the brothers, Sans in particular. When we weren’t busy with work, we would constantly be chilling, talking, watching movies; anything. And since I spent so much time around Sans, that meant I would constantly be subjected to his jokes. One time, I was washing dishes and the sink nozzle sprayed water all over me. He got a pie tin full of shaving cream in his face the same day.

 

It was a week later that I got a call from my mother.

 

My heart feeling like it was being squeezed, I answered,

 

“Hello?”

 

“Sweetie! Come back home!”

 

“Mom, I… I Iove my monster friends.” You heard a sigh.

 

“Just come back, I’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you do in your spare time.”

 

Though she sounded reluctant, I couldn’t help but put faith in her words.

 

“Okay.”

 

It was silent for a moment until she spoke, “I love you.”

 

“…Love you. See you soon.”

 

* * *

 

“are you sure you want to go back?”

 

The bright pin points of light that acted as the skeleton’s pupils burned into me, seeming to look into my very being, every part of me exposed for judgement. Though, by now I knew Sans wouldn’t unfairly criticise me for the things I did, who I was. All of my friends… they took all of who I was and loved me for every flaw and every mistake. That was why I wanted to prove to my mother that they were more than she accused them of being, that they had so much love within their bodies, that she could come to love them as well. I wanted everyone to be happy.

 

“Yeah. I promise I’ll see you soon?”

 

He flinched at the word ‘promise’, unsteady grin curling back up into its cheerful former glory. He shot me a thumbs-up.

 

“See you soon, kid.”

 

* * *

  


He walked away from the house, shooting it one last glance. His bones were filled with unease after watching a familiar figure fade from his view as a door shut behind them, but he couldn’t help but trust the friend he had come to know. She was glowing, brilliant, dancing through life with grace and beauty. She danced to a different tune than when they first met. He liked to think he played a role in that change. The way she faced challenges and loved with all her soul; he couldn’t help but admire every part of her. She was so perfectly

imperfect.

 

He would hate for that blinding light to die out. But… he couldn’t smother it either.

 

As he was about to walk through a short-cut, as he liked to call his teleportation, the world turned on its head. The curtains that were the fabric of reality were violently tugged and pulled downwards until they fell in a crescendo, pooling and twisting, and changing. A familiar picture was created with different materials, similar but different.

 

The world was built again, and what he saw sharply tugged at his soul and filled his skull with static buzzing.

 

He saw a girl, dancing the line between life and death, arms embracing the air around her. Her face was upturned to the sky, expression blissful, wet hair trailing behind her. Her toes that were raised on the thick stone railing directed her legs, limbs weaving in a painfully final dance. She took a step, and on instinct he dropped his umbrella, rain pelting his person and he ran forward with his arm out stretched.

 

“wait!”

**Author's Note:**

> uh so i found this in my story folder on my computer? i don't really remember writing this but i thought it was pretty okay so i finished it up and decided to post it. it's very interpretive and vague, and i really like that actually because i think that, for the most part, i tend to like to write clear answers and solid conclusions. 
> 
> Expect it to have some mistakes and kind of unpolished areas because it's not my goal to make it perfect, and i'm pretty sure this was a piece i wrote to vent. hope you enjoyed it!


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